


Hot Alpha's Promise

by thegirlnamedcove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Danny thinks gaydar is a thing, Derek is Good at Feelings, Derek's New York pack, Everyone is very mature, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, One-Sided Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Pack House, and he's bad at it, eat your feelings, for once, romance novels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/pseuds/thegirlnamedcove
Summary: Stiles reads romance novels, Derek tries to protect his own feelings, and Danny thinks he's the gay whisperer.





	Hot Alpha's Promise

****Stiles was right sometimes. Not often. But sometimes. Mostly when it came to his scary good judge of character. As loathe as Derek was to give Stiles any inch of ground in their tug-of-war friendship, he could admit that. So he’d accepted Ethan and Aiden into his pack after some truly intense grovelling, and kicked Theo out on his ass. He’d stopped pursuing Scott altogether (“seriously, man, he’s going to start thinking you have a boner for him and that’s just weird”) although he held out a sort of wild determination that eventually their packs would merge. And, after four months of needling and sarcastic powerpoints, he agreed to bring Danny into the pack.

The day of the offer had gone both smoother and stranger than Derek had anticipated. Danny had seen them walking up to his table at the library and dropped his book to cross his arms over his chest. Derek did the same, and Stiles just rolled his eyes, but before either of them could get a word out Danny had said, “So, are we finally having the werewolf talk?”

Turned out his grandmother was emissary to the Kahele Pack on Molokai in Hawaii, and his parents had settled here with permission from Talia Hale only fifteen years before. He’d smirked recounting _his_ perspective on the Alpha Pack and the time he’d punched Peter Hale in the dick for getting too handsy at Jungle (Stiles had howled in laughter and almost gotten them kicked out), and then inevitably led into Kate and the fire (“If any of us had known it was her, you have to believe we would have come forward, against any pressure.”). He was reluctant to join the pack, refused the bite straight out, but had eventually conceded that safety was in numbers and he was alright with it if his mother, father, and two sisters could come along too.

And so Derek, Boyd, Scott, and Isaac all tromped over to the Mahealani house for a chat. It was at the welcome barbecue for their family that Danny took Derek aside for a Talk.

“Look, I don’t want to make things weird,” he was chewing on a nail, his eyes darting from Stiles back to Derek a couple times before he steeled himself to say more, “But I’ve seen you two together, and I’ve seen how you pay attention to him and to how he moves, and I just...I’ve been there, okay? And I feel like I need to say _something_.”

Well, shit. Derek knew someone would notice eventually and realistically he was lucky it hadn’t been one of the betas. His burgeoning attractions were none of anyone’s business, but Erica and Isaac could be particularly vicious when they were so inclined--it was why he bit them, in part--and he was far better off with Danny being the one to confront him.

“You’ve...been attracted to Stiles too?” he tried to keep his voice neutral, “Past tense, or…?”

Danny squawked out a surprised laugh and clamped his fingers over his mouth to stop it.

“No, I...no. I’m not attracted to Stiles. God, no. It’s just that I’ve...been that guy with a crush on a straight boy. And I just wanted to talk to you about it because I know how unhealthy it can get to carry that candle for someone who can’t ever feel the same way.”

And oh...that was so much worse than what he thought this Talk was about. Derek’s blood cooled in his veins, and he shoved his fists deep into his jacket pockets. He let his eyes drift along the trees above them, on the edge of campground had chosen for the day’s festivities. Anything to avoid the pitying look on Danny's face.

“He, um--” he cleared his throat which suddenly felt so full, “He’s straight? You’re sure?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, pretty sure. He looks at me like something out of a _zoo_. Constant questions, constant scrutiny. I can tell he doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just curious, but that doesn’t make it feel any better, you know?”

“Yeah. I do.”

It had been a long time since high school, when he’d tried in his fumbling adolescent way to explain to his parents that he had a crush on the co-captain of the basketball team, but he remembered the feeling like it was still fresh. Laura asking if the other boy was feminine, if that was why. His younger cousin shouting that he would need a mama to make babies. His mom telling him that this was a good age to experiment, and that his confusion would clear up soon enough. It was all so gentle, they were trying so _hard_ and he just couldn’t deal with having the conversation twice. He’d jumped on the opportunity to be with Kate, prove that no one needed to worry about him, and then after...well, _after_ , he hadn’t been willing to risk rocking the boat with Laura. So his boyfriends, and his girlfriends, were kept private.

He hadn’t thought Stiles would be the same--he thought he’d caught Stiles staring at his ass before--but maybe he was wrong. It’s not like a cartoon dotted line showed up every time to indicate where Stiles line of sight really led.

“Thanks, for letting me know,” he sighed, and rubbed at his temple, “before I made a fool of myself.”

Danny smiled, “No problem, man. I just don’t want to see anyone else pining away. Watching Isaac pant after Scott is more than enough.”

“You noticed that too?” he chuckled, “Is Isaac going to get this same talk then, about Scott being straight?”

“Eh, I think Scott might surprise you.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow at him, but Danny just smirked and walked back to the barbecue, sweater pulled in close around him.

 

***

 

Stiles stared straight ahead, and moved with the line thoughtlessly. He was out on a routine grocery trip, mind numbing and too big of a job for just one human, but he’d needed the time away from the pack house. It’d been three weeks now of Derek ignoring him and he wasn’t sure at all what he should do about it.

It’s not like he was under silent treatment rules. Derek still talked to him. But he talked to him exactly as much as he’d talk to any packmate, and no more. They didn’t go for their Saturday morning lattes anymore, or run into each other at the library, or gotten together to do home improvement projects they’d found on Pinterest. It was polite between them now, all the animosity and heat sucked out of their interactions and Stiles was goddamn sick of it.

They'd had a friendship, he thought, something deep and familiar and unspoken. At the very least they'd had a flirtation, which was more than he got from most eligible men in Beacon Hills. He knew he often came on strong, but it's not like he could go back in time and undo all the bad first impressions he'd left as an overeager teenager, and the gay population of Beacon Hills was incredibly small. Aside from Estelle Frumhell and Harper Seal, the two drag queens he always made time for but who were both in pretty committed relationships of their own, he'd pretty much made an enemy of everyone he could potentially date.

And that was something he'd accepted, with great dignity he thought. He could wait until college in the Fall to meet beautiful and compelling strangers and have whirlwind romances and say gooey stupid things like in the romance novels he 100% did not read. Maybe he could call someone his “heartsong”. That had made him openly weep when he absolutely had not read it in a novel by his favorite author who he knew nothing about.

Speaking of, he was pretty sure that was her name on the New Releases shelf by the checkout and as he stood there--ice cream melting and spinach slowly wilting while the old woman ahead of him argued over her expired coupons--he couldn’t come up with one reason why he shouldn't buy it. Derek might not be his heartsong, but he was yet one more man in a long parade of guys who had cottoned on to Stiles’ flirtation and then squirmed away as a result and he deserved to feel a little bruised.

He tossed the book on the conveyor belt with a thunk, and muttered “I’m a catch, goddammit”. The clean cut brunette behind him looked over with a confused expression and then took a step back, away from Stiles. He sniffled a little and turned his gaze to the floor.

 

***

 

He wasn't avoiding Stiles, exactly. Stiles had done nothing to deserve that. But he had to put his own emotional well being first. His therapist had insisted on it even as he gave her what he thought was a pretty withering glare. And looking after himself meant he needed to shut down anything too coupley with Stiles, which for them was a lot. The week before, when he’d had a particularly horrid shift at work, he’d invited Isaac to come out with him to the bar and play darts instead of Stiles and it had been nice. He didn’t spend nearly enough time with Isaac. But it hadn’t been the same, and he knew it wasn’t the same for Stiles when he came over with takeout and a story about a dangerous driver who nearly ran him off the road, and Derek had pulled Boyd into the conversation so they wouldn’t be alone. Their lives were so tangled up it was like they were already dating, down to the standing reservation at Taqueria Cansado in the city. He hated every second of cancelling that.

Pack meetings were especially hard. They all had their usual seats around the farmhouse table he’d built when he first established the pack house. Many of them had been chosen by Stiles during his six month obsession with actual wolves. (“Derek, Boyd is your second, right? Then he needs to sit here on the right, and no one on your left, that spot is in honor of your parents, then we have to go in order of rank and age, which means Liam you can just go on to the end, no bitching.”)

Now, though, Stiles hovered by the wall while everyone else sat down, just to be sure that his rank hadn’t shifted. That he still had a spot. Derek hated doing that to him, and if he was honest he had no idea how to fix it.

After a month he finally called up an old New York friend, and Alpha, for guidance.

“Well I’ll be a son of a bitch. You’re still alive,” Reese said, his heavy accent still calling to mind old gangster movies no matter how many times Derek was exposed to it, “Lay it on me, then, who’s dying? Probably somebody important for the great and powerful Derek Hale to bother using a phone.”

“Oh shut _up_ , Reese, you know you're not first on my speed dial. It goes Kristen Stewart, Taylor Lautner, and then you.”

“God I shoulda never let you guys watch Twilight, it ruined the moral center of the pack.”

It was so easy to fall back into old patterns with Reese, to forget about whatever was happening locally and just coast on the feeling that his friend was steering the ship again. He missed being a beta so keenly sometimes.

But he made this call with a mission in mind.

“So listen, I did call for a reason and it’s...complicated.”

“That’s pretty typical for you, yeah.”

It wasn’t possible to send a glare through the phone, but he tried.

“So...I have this beta. He's human and all but he's still...he's integral to our structure, you know?”

Reese hummed, “Humans usually are. Every one of them is an emissary in their own right, keeps us that little bit more controlled even when the proper emissary ain't around.”

“Exactly,” Derek gestured broadly, “But he doesn't seem to grasp what he means to all of us and I may have...made it worse.”

“Dee, what did you do?” his tone was scolding but warm and Derek relaxed his posture a little in hope.

“I just….I really like him Reese, but he won't ever reciprocate and I felt like I needed to pull away and just...move on, for my own sake. But now he thinks I've pulled away because, I don't know, I think he’s the weak link or something. Whatever reason he came up with in his head is probably worse than anything I could.”

The line was silent for a minute and Derek could picture Reese slumped down in the big leather fuck-off chair in his office, rolling a coin back and forth across the knuckles of his free hand as he thought. Finally he came to some end and asked:

“Well, why can't he reciprocate?”

Derek sighed, “Same reason you couldn't, man.”

It had been years since he lived in New York, and even longer still since he had considered leaving Laura and his pack for the young hotshit Alpha who talked like Joe Banano, but it still stung. He'd been so gentle in explaining that he just couldn't return Derek's affection, and he almost hated him more for that fact.

“Oh man,” he breathed, “Not another one.”

“Just help me, dammit.”

“Okay, okay…I think I know what you can say.”

 

***

 

Stiles could admit that he maybe, possibly, should have looked more carefully at the book’s cover in the store. Yes, there was [Riley Hart](https://www.amazon.com/Riley-Hart/e/B00HCMIRQ8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1506366645&sr=1-1)’s name in big yellow letters down the side, but the rest of the cover was garish and he maybe understood the weird looks he’d gotten now. “Hot Alpha’s Promise” stood out in bold pink neon over a broad shouldered man, half turned towards the camera and shirtless. His muscles seemed improbably smooth, airbrushed all to hell, and there was no way he could move in jeans that tight. But practical clothes didn’t make for a picture this enticing, and he found himself staring at the paperback on his desk like it was a viper. He should return it, maybe throw it in the trash compactor, or bury it in the woods. Anything to keep the pack from finding out he had it in his possession and mocking him into the next century.

Instead of any of those things, he picked it up and flipped it open.

Three hours later he emerged from chapter twelve with a hard on and a prickly aura of shame. It was a lot more explicit than his usual fanfare, less sweet romantic yearnings and more characters seeing what they wanted and _taking_. He could see, logically, how some of their actions would play out poorly in the real world. Dustin Geoffries might be able to walk up to his assistant, take his face in his hands, and kiss him without warning, but it just didn’t happen that way in real life. If he’d done that to Danny during Sophomore year while he was still harboring a crush, he probably would’ve gotten some pepper spray for his troubles. If he’d done it to Derek he wouldn’t get out of the encounter with all four limbs still attached. But here, within the book, it could happen and the object of Dustin’s affections would always respond in kind. He could be forgiven a little bit of escapism in that area, couldn’t he?

He stowed the book in his backpack, shoved the backpack under his desk, and then stood and shook out his limbs. Sitting in one spot like that always wound him up in knots and he knew he’d need to go for a run soon to burn off the excess energy simmering under his skin.

Downstairs, seemingly the whole pack was milling around the dining room. Danny, Ethan, and Aiden were playing some incredibly elaborate card game at one end of the table, Scott was leaning into Isaac’s space as they worked on homework together, Lydia and Allison were doing the same as they read, and the younger wolves were engaged in some kind of shouting match over a tv show while Boyd egged them on. Erica snapped her gaze to his as soon as he entered and a smile stretched across her face.

“Just finished a self love session?”

“Wha-- I--” he spluttered, looking behind him like there’d be an answer there, “I _didn’t_.”

“Please, you reek. I can practically see the busty co-eds dancing above your head,” she smirked, “Or less busty, whatever your preference.”

“Erica, don’t be an ass,” Derek sighed, “Hey Stiles, I was about to head over to the gym. Want to come along?”

It should have felt encouraging, but instead Derek’s attention just felt more disorienting. The question hadn’t really sounded optional. He glanced around, hoping someone else named Stiles had joined the pack recently, and caught Danny levelling him with an ugly glare. After a few minutes of silence he finally ducked his head and threw out a “Yeah, sure” before escaping to the mudroom to get his sneakers and workout bag.

The gym was built into the garage on the other side of the lot, big enough for four cars plus Scott and the twins’ motorcycles, and blessedly soundproofed. It had been a big boon for getting the wolves to regularly train, and Stiles insisted one of his better ideas. The walk over was mostly quiet, although Derek tried a few times to start a sentence before ultimately trailing off into a frustrated huff.

Once the lights were on and the door shut behind them, Stiles dropped his bag and squared his shoulders.

“Okay, out with it. What did you want to talk about?”

“What? No, I...just...ugh,” he ran his hands over his face.

“Come on, man, you’ve got a bucket of gel in your hair and your good jeans on. There was no way you had any plans to work out this afternoon.”

He sighed and walked over to the weight bench, patting the space beside him in an invitation for Stiles to follow.

“I guess I wanted to talk about why things have been weird between us lately, and how to fix it. I know it’s on me for suddenly acting like a dick.”

“Yeah, so what exactly is up with that?”

“It’s just,” he tangled his fingers together in his lap, “I’m the alpha and as much as I might like you guys and...and especially you, I need to remember that there’s an imbalance there. Even for humans,” he cut off Stiles’ objection with a smirk, “Even without the Alpha eyes. There’s a real danger of me coming on too strong and forcing things that the other person doesn’t want but feels like they have to comply with, and I felt like I needed some distance just to be sure I wasn’t...doing that. That we were okay as friends.”

“Derek, I don’t understand where this is coming from. Have I acted like you were being too pushy? I always want to spend time with you, you have to know that, you’re one of my favorite people in the pack,” he laid a hand on Derek’s knee and had to force himself not to retract it when Derek bore holes into it with his eyes, “You don’t have to self-isolate just because you’re in charge of us.”

Derek nodded, but his eyes were still fixed on Stiles’ hand, and he made a wounded sound before clearing his throat and standing up.

“I just...wanted you to know where my head was at. And know that I may be a bit gun-shy in the future, and that it’s not...it’s not ever _your fault_.”

“Okay. I get it,” Stiles offered, and stood too.

“Good. Well. I might not be dressed for it, but it might be nice to shake out some nerves after all that. Want to get changed and do a circuit?”

Stiles smiled, and cuffed Derek’s shoulder, “Absolutely.”

 

***

 

It didn’t really get better after that, but it didn’t get worse either. Stiles maintained the distance Derek had created, for the most part, and Derek didn’t move to close it right away. They were friendlier, though, sitting together in the mornings for coffee and quiet before the rest of the pack woke up and came downstairs. Stiles usually sat at the two person table by the window and wrote in his journal--he said it was to write down his dreams, “or else they follow me around all day, and I just can’t...do that anymore,” and Derek was dying to be allowed to read it. Derek usually puttered around making whatever was in the fridge and setting it on the long kitchen island. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, bagels, just so his hands could stay busy while his brain slowly came online. After forty minutes of quiet murmurs and scrapes and sizzling from the stove, Scott was usually the first one down, and they brought with him noise and life that drowned out whatever was still there between Derek and Stiles.

It was more than he could have asked for, as a resolution.

One morning, three or four days into the new room, Scott came down the stairs with Isaac in tow and Stiles raised his eyebrows at Derek over his mug. They were sharing a set of pajamas between them, Scott in the pants and an undershirt and Isaac in the top and his boxers, and when Isaac caught the twin looks on Derek and Stiles’ faces he blushed and looked down at his feet.

“So…” Stiles started, an octave too high, “Sleep well last night?”

“Yeah, slept great,” Scott said, plucking a piece of toast from the pile and settling onto a stool, “Isaac came into my room late last night to watch Law and Order with me, and then we both just kind of passed out I guess.”

“That so?”

He shrugged, “The tv was still on when I woke up so…”

“You guys do that often? Just sleep in the same bed?”

“Yeah, most nights lately.”

Isaac snorted, and then gagged and coughed into his cup. Scott pounded on his back, a frown across his face.

“Hey, woah, don’t drink so fast.”

“I’m okay,” Isaac wheezed, “Wrong pipe. ‘M fine.”

“Well good,” Scott grinned wickedly, “I’d hate to lose you to drip coffee of all things.”

Isaac smiled at that, and from where Derek was standing he could see him hook an ankle around Scott’s under the breakfast bar.

“Yeah? But you’d be okay losing me to a harpie or something?”

“Pssh, never gonna happen. They only eat unfaithful men. We’re monogamous Law and Order partners.”

When Derek glanced at Stiles it looked like he was barely holding back a scream. His eyes were wide and mouth pressed into the barest imitation of a smile. Derek coughed and when Stiles caught his eye mouth, ‘calm down’.

“Hey Scott, buddy.”

“Yeah?” he replied but didn’t look up from where he was watching Isaac make his plate, a dopey grin on his face.

“Do you still have that book on the fairie folk actually. You just reminded me, I think I need it back to look up house wights.”

He nodded, seemingly on a delay, and finally peeled his eyes away from the boy next to him.

“It’s upstairs, we can get it now.”

“Perfect,” Stiles slid out of his spot and pushed Scott towards the stairs. Derek heard the start of a sentence, “this is just embarrassing,” before they rounded the corner and the soundproofing and insulation overtook even his hearing.

“So,” Derek said, leaning forward and folding his arms on the counter, “Scott, huh?”

Isaac blushed again, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“I think so. I’m working on it, anyway. He’s never...been with another guy and I think it’s still strange for him.”

“Neither have you,” Derek shrugged.

“No, but I also never had the option of dating girls. It’s a bit more obvious for me, you know, there’s not that doubt.”

“It was always obvious for me that I liked both.”

“I just think Scott hadn’t ever considered it, you know? But it seems like he does like me and I _really_ like him so...I want to go for it.”

Derek pushed the syrup towards him and smiled, softly. He was reminded every day of where each of his betas had come from, what their lives might have been like if they hadn’t been turned, and now with the stress and drama of the nemeton behind them he could finally say he’d made a good decision with each of them. He had no doubt that if Isaac had stayed with his father his coming out would have been met with a much harsher response. Best case scenario, he would have come up against the same well-meaning concern Derek had. Worst case scenario, Derek didn’t even want to think about. Instead he was here, safe and warm and well fed, talking about it openly and without any hesitation.

“You should go for it. Maybe he’ll say no, but I have it on good authority that he might surprise you.”

“Yeah?” Isaac grinned, perking up at the thought, “From who?”

“Danny. And you’ve all known one another since you were kids, you know? I figure he has some insight into what Scott looks like with a crush.”

“ _Awesome,_ ” Isaac said, “I’ll ask him tomorrow. You know, pack meeting, I figure the upstairs will be...empty.”

Derek smirked but let the issue drop.

 

***

 

The pack meeting was in fifteen minutes and Stiles wasn’t sure if he was going to make it. Oh sure, he could physically get there. He hadn’t left his room all day, he could just get up, put on pants, and walk down the stairs. But the thing was he didn’t know if he was capable of even that. At some point in his new life as the sidekick in Scott’s romantic comedy of a life and the extra in Derek’s, he’d become emotionally invested in stupid Dustin Geoffries and his stupid green energy company and his stupid handsome assistant Gregory. There were still at least seven chapters left before the book ran out of pages, and the conflict was getting suspiciously close to a resolution, which could only mean there was a disaster around the corner waiting to topple everything and he _could not deal_. They had confessed their love for one another, Dustin had been all brooding and manly about it, acting like it was pulling out teeth for him to admit he had human emotions, and it was perfect. Absolutely flawless. If it all fell apart now, he may have to sneak some of the ice cream out of Erica’s mini fridge and eat his feelings.

And okay, maybe it was a way of processing his own feelings. That’s what these sorts of books were for, really, it’s why they sold like gangbusters. It gave people a chance to pick apart relationships other than their own for a minute, to say things like, “Why won’t you two just talk to one another!” Always followed by a much quieter, “Wait a minute.”

He knew that. He’d admitted that much to himself.

But it was also about being able to see one relationship turn out well, just to prove to himself that it was possible. Boyd and Erica were the only couple he had ever seen last more than six months, and he sometimes suspected them of being just the same person twice. Bitter, sarcastic, no sense of boundaries or proprietary, whip smart where it counted.

Meanwhile, Danny and Ethan were off again, Lydia was texting back and forth with Jackson in open spite of his current girlfriend, Scott was being his usual oblivious self when it came to his Isaac-shaped shadow, and Derek...well, Derek wasn’t very good at fake excuses, it turns out. The power imbalance thing had been novel, Stiles could give him that, but he wasn’t an idiot. Derek wouldn’t ever use his Alpha influence on anyone outside of an emergency, that whole lust for power had burned out in the first two months of his red eyed status. When it came right down to it, Stiles wanted more out of the relationship than Derek did and he’d tried to spare Stiles’ feelings.

So he was reading, and praying for these two fictional businessmen to find eternal love and balm his cynical husk of a soul. He’d been reading since he woke up, chewing his nails raw, and it was pushing noon now. The others were probably already gathered in the living room downstairs, and he resolved to join them as soon as this chapter finished out.

In the background there was a soft noise, and then a shuffle, and then Stiles’ door opened wide and he bolted up in bed, the book clutched to his chest.

“Stiles, I know you know this thing is mandatory--” Derek started, pushing into the room with all the bluster and authority one grumpy werewolf could pull together before freezing, his eyes glued to the cover of the novel. With a wince Stiles remembered the neon pink of the title, and the naked back and arms just below it.

“I...you…” Derek seemed stuck in a loop, stuttering as he looked from the book to his face and back again, “that’s…”

“Can we please pretend you didn’t catch me reading romance porn?” Stiles asked, his voice fast and high like he was in pain. He really felt like he was.

“Romance…? But that’s...a man. On there.”

“Yeah, well. Um.”

Derek’s mouth worked wordlessly, and his brow furrowed as he tried to finish a thought, any thought. Stiles felt his face and neck get hot with shame, but he refused to move first. Some indignant part of his mind still insisted that this was his room and he had every right to read schmoopy nonsense in his own room.

Finally, Derek forced a sentence past his lips, directed for all appearances at the book itself.

“I thought I was your alpha.”

Stiles eyebrows crept towards his hairline.

“It’s not that kind of alpha Derek.”

“So you...read books about….naked...alphas...which you call porn.”

“Yeah, man, I...you pretty much know what my type is, I thought that’s why you did the whole…” he searched for the words in the air, gesturing between the two of them, “like, ‘I need space’ thing.”

Derek pulled his eyes away from where they’d been watching Stiles’ hands and then, without warning, he surged forward. In two steps he was across the room and had a knee on the bed next to Stiles’ hip. His hands planted on either side of Stiles’ body, caging him in, and then Derek’s mouth was pressed against his, kissing him hard enough to knock both of them back onto the mattress.

Stiles melted into it automatically, his hands bracing on Derek’s forearms and his head pushing up to match his movements, and for a moment his mind was just spinning in freefall. He had no idea what was happening, but his higher functions were suddenly not getting any blood and he only had enough left to respond, grinding his hips upward where they were trapped under Dereks. He could feel a hardness answering his own and a spark travelled up his spine at the thought, dizzying and intense.

Derek broke the kiss first, moving just far enough away to catch his breath.

“I thought you were straight.”

Stiles gaped at that, still not quite able to process.

“Why?”

“Danny, he...he told me you wouldn’t ever--”

“Oh my god,” Stiles scrubbed a hand across his face, “Danny has literally never asked me in any capacity. Has he been…” he pulled his hand away and furrowed his brow, “Has he been cock blocking me for years? Oh my god, is that why Richard stopped responding to my texts?”

Derek ducked his head against Stiles’ chest and snickered, his shoulders shaking with the effort to contain it.

“Stop it!” Stiles swatted at him, “It’s not funny! It’s hard enough for me to find anyone willing to give me a chance without someone running interference.”

“Well,” Derek said, “If you’re not too mad, I’m willing to give you more than just a chance.”

“Oh yeah? Does that mean we can forget the pack meeting? Do something more interesting?”

Derek groaned, “Don’t remind me. I don’t think the Alpha is allowed to skip.”

“Two minutes, then,” Stiles said, and pulled Derek back into a kiss.

 

***

 

They emerged from the bedroom twenty minutes later, clothes rumpled and looking suspiciously relaxed, to a chorus of whistles and cheers from the wolves in the den.

“Look who’s doing the walk of shame!” Erica shouted.

“Excuse you,” Stiles flipped her off as he flopped into the open loveseat, “I am extremely proud of what I just accomplished.”

“At least the Alpha is getting some,” Liam said, “Maybe now he’ll be less strict without that stick up his ass.”

Derek levelled him with a flat glare and sat next to Stiles, arms crossed across his chest.

“I will never be relaxed enough to let you go to Burning Man, Liam. A werewolf at a music festival is the worst idea ever, and I don’t know why you won’t let it go.”

“Well, now that we’ve graced you with our magnificent presence,” Stiles mused, “Is everyone here? Can we call this thing to order?”

Around him the others shifted in their seats, an awkwardness winding its way through everyone before Boyd spoke up.

“Scott and Isaac are out back. Isaac asked Scott on a date earlier and by the sound of it Scott’s...letting him down easy.”

“What?”

Across the room, Danny shook his head, “I swear that boy is the biggest closet case I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what it’s going to take to make him admit it.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at him, and looped an arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

“Or maybe, you’re just a really bad judge of character.”

Next to him, Stiles snorted, “Well, I could’ve told you that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Riley Hart is my favorite romance author, I buy everything she writes. There was really no other choice for "writer of addictive romances with sexy men on the cover". The idea for this story comes from this vastly underappreciated tumblr post, which prompted me to write a little drabble, which got entirely out of hand and ended up 6,000 words long or thereabouts.
> 
> http://stiles-bottom-beta.tumblr.com/post/162055249752/all-i-can-think-of-is-stiles-subconsciously-taking
> 
> Meanwhile, the new chapters for my larger fics continued to go on ignored. I really need to learn to only post things that are complete, otherwise I get distracted by fun shorts like this and letting them languish forever.


End file.
